


Moving House

by someonestolemyshoes



Series: Wish [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fire Demon AU, Ghibli AU, Howl's Moving Castle AU, KageHina - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-12-14 06:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11777007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someonestolemyshoes/pseuds/someonestolemyshoes
Summary: As it turned out, the little patch of trees at the foot of the mountain provided ample coverage for construction.Tobio gathered supplies from all around. While he only permitted Hinata to search the woods, Tobio made regular trips into town, replenishing his food supplies and collecting whatever he could sneak away with that might aid in their building.Hinata wasn’t fussy. He picked up anything and everything—sticks, branches, even rusted pallets of sheet metal, piling it all up in a corner of their clearing along with the wood, rope, nails and tools Tobio stole from the people in the town.And when they had garnered all that they could, the pair of them began to build.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go boys

As it turned out, the little patch of trees at the foot of the mountain provided ample coverage for construction.

Tobio gathered supplies from all around. While he only permitted Hinata to search the woods, Tobio made regular trips into town, replenishing his food supplies and collecting whatever he could sneak away with that might aid in their building.

Hinata wasn’t fussy. He picked up anything and everything—sticks, branches, even rusted pallets of sheet metal, piling it all up in a corner of their clearing along with the wood, rope, nails and tools Tobio stole from the people in the town.

And when they had garnered all that they could, the pair of them began to build.

The days melted together, carrying them deep into the summer. Out in the fields, farmers harvested their crops—even hidden in the trees, Tobio could hear the huff and sputter of steam engines, the rumble of tires weighted by clipped grass and sheared grain, and the scuff of hooves, pawing at the ground.

Above and around them, animals chirped and chattered, basking in the warmth of the late summer sun. Tobio and Hinata had, over the weeks, became so much a part of the little forest that even the birds ceased to mind them. The chops and thumps and grinds of their tools become just another sound, much like the whisper of leaves and the rustle of grass in the undergrowth.

Slowly, their tiny patch of trees by the mountain, filled with the supplies they between them found and stole, began to feel a little like a home in and of itself.

But as comfortable as things had become—between their familiar bickering, the steady drone of building, hours curled beneath the stars by the soft burn of Hinata’s fire—Tobio couldn’t deny that some… _odd_ things were happening.

Day by day, Tobio was noticing a change in the demon. Things about him were becoming more defined, less lost in his flame. Beneath his fiery armour, Tobio could see the outline of a nose, of cheeks, and in his mouth there were real _teeth_ , faint within the fire. Hinata had always looked human beneath his flame, from the very first day he fell from the heavens to land at Tobio’s feet, but over time, his flickering exterior seemed todwindle, showing more and more of the man-like figure beneath.

At the same time, Tobio had found himself more and more unwilling to leave the little demon’s side. Not so much out of fondness, or out of obligation for him, but more so because Tobio didn’t like the feeling that took over him, the further away he strayed.

Distance from Hinata brought about the strangest sense of emptiness. Much like that night in the storm, Tobio felt, the further he wandered, like a part of himself was lifted away, taken from him, and in its place he was left with a disconcerting kind of detachment, one that only lifted upon his return to their clearing. To Hinata.

As a result, Tobio’s trips to the nearby town grew more and more infrequent, leaving only when food supplies ran too low, or their progress on the house was stalled by a missing piece or tool.

Neither of these things Tobio mentioned aloud.

They finished construction late one evening, when the short summer nights had begun to stretch, and the warm wind that blew through the trees gave way to a biting autumn chill.

The sky was dark, and the weather cold, and the house stood up before them, looming between the trees.

Tobio had imagined something… _grander_ , perhaps. Larger, more sturdy, a pretty house with four straight walls, a pointed roof, big open windows—instead, they were left with something _ramshackle_.

Everything about it was tilted—the walls, made mostly of metal sheets, haphazard wooden boards, and bits and pieces of junk to fill any gaps, leaned so the house stands up at an angle, and the thatched roof swayed dangerously to one side. There were windows, small, angular ones, patched together with wooden frames and broken glass, and at the very front of the house, a door, set wonkily into the wall, made with green painted wood and a real, rounded brass handle.

Here and there, odd items stuck out from the framework. Pipes, the spokes of wheels, bolts and rivets, anything and everything they could find to hold the little building together, and—at Hinata’s request—metal bars at its sides, linked together by a handful of rudimentary crankshafts. .

Legs, Hinata had said, for their house to walk on.

The little demon stared up at their creation with his hands on his hips, eyes wide, giddy and excited and perhaps a touch proud, too.

“We did it,” he said quietly.

“We did…something,” Tobio said.

“We _did_ it,” Hinata said again, whipping around. In the darkness, his fire crackled, wisping away in a whirl of sparks as he turned. “We…we built a house! A _house_ , Kageyama!”

Tobio blinked up at it. _House_ was most definitely a questionable term for their creation, for it looked nothing like any house Tobio had ever seen before. But they had built it, from the ground up, and with bloody, blistered hands, they had raised it.

Tobio hesitated to call it a house, but this decrepit little thing could, perhaps, become a home.

And with the way Hinata was smiling at it, whooping and cheering, hovering inches above the ground with his flames licking high towards the tree tops in his excitement, Tobio couldn’t help but be the smallest bit happy with what they’d made, too.

“Alright,” Tobio said, pinching back his grin, “we built a house. Now what?”

“Now,” Hinata said, a wicked little grin curling over his face, “we _move it_.”

* * *

“Do you have any idea, at all, even a _little_ bit, what you’re doing?”

Tobio sat with his back to a tree, arms braced over his knees while Hinata circled the house, rubbing his chin in thought. Now that he was no longer active, the sweat on his skin had cooled, chilling him, so much so that he half-wished Hinata would come closer, warm him with his flame.

He rolled down the one good sleeve of his shirt—the other had been scorched away to the elbow, leaving his arm exposed, and displaying a menacing-looking scar from the burn Hinata had given him, all those months ago now—and drew his cloak over himself, to fend off the chill.

“I think so,” Hinata said.

“Great,” Tobio sighed, knocking his head to the trunk behind him, “fills me with confidence.”

“Give me a break, _rudeyama!_ I’ve never done this before.”

“This sounds…awfully familiar”   
  
“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”   
  
_“‘It’s not supposed to, I don’t think’,_ ” Tobio said, mimicking the demons high little voice, his thoughtful tone, “‘ _but I don’t know. Maybe?’—_ ringing any bells?”

Tobio had no idea fire demons could blush, but Hinata did so then, the fire on over his cheeks burning a vibrant red. He stuck out his tongue, and continued his circling.

For a while, they remained in silence, save for the steady crackle of fire as Hinata walked, observing seemingly every inch of what they had built. Every now and then, he reached out, brushing a fiery palm to the walls and skimming over it. It was strange, but Tobio could have sworn the house hissed under his touch; whispered.

And then, he stopped, patting a sheet of metal, and turned on his heel to face Tobio.

“I think I got it.”

“You think,” Tobio said sardonically, kicking off his cloak and clambering slowly to his feet. “You’re sure demons even _have_ that kind of power?”

“Mhm,” Hinata hummed, rocking up on his toes. “We’ve got a _tonne_ of magic, we just need—” he paused, and patted the little blue orb in his chest—“a little fuel to make it work.”

With that, Hinata turned to the house once more, and pressed his palm flat against one wall. He closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and his flames roared to life around him. Tobio took a few stumbling steps back out of the way, for the heat that came from the demon was almost overwhelming in it’s intensity.

Standing in the raging, dancing glow, one hand braced to the trunk of a nearby tree to steady himself, Tobio watched with wide eyes as Hinata’s fire licked over the house. The raw _power_ the demon exerted was enough to whip Kageyama’s ragged clothing about his body, to rattle the foundations of their house until it steamed, and shook where it sat on the forest floor.

The sight left him breathless, from shock and awe in equal measure, but it lasted only a moment. With a moaning shudder, the house fell still, and the flames retreated.

Hinata stumbled away. For the first time since the demon had been poisoned, his little body looked like it had weight to it, dragging him towards the ground as he tried to catch his feet. Tobio jerked towards him, steadying him with both hands at his shoulders as Hinata blinked rapidly, shaking his head.

“What happened?” Tobio asked. Hinata leaned heavily into him for a moment more, and then stood upright, walking back towards the house. His gait was unsteady, knees shaky beneath his flame.

“I’m not used to using so much magic,” Hinata said thickly. He stopped beside the house, scratching at the back of his neck a little sheepishly. “Tired me out, I guess.”

“Dumbass,” Tobio said warily, “stop, if it’s too much.”

“It’s fine,” Hinata said. “I just need a little more help, is all. Here, give me your hand.”

A little hesitantly, Tobio stepped forward. Hinata reached for him, one hand curling about his wrist, guiding him to press a palm flat to the side of their house.

Where before the house had been only a mishmash of cold, useless bric-a-brac, it now felt…almost alive beneath his touch. Warm, with a steady rhythm to it, as though it were breathing.

“Keep your hand there,” Hinata instructed. Tobio did as told, feeling the house inhale beneath his fingertips. His other hand, Hinata took in his own, palm to palm, and he knotted their fingers together, before finally bracing his hand once more to the wall, until the three of them—Hinata, Tobio, and the house—were linked.

“What difference will this make?” Tobio asked. It was…almost difficult, talking like this, between the steady warmth of the demon and the pulsing breaths of the house, for Tobio could feel himself being lulled by the twin touches, the pair of them an odd little lullaby in the late summer night.

Hinata took another deep breath. His flames seemed to quiver, in anticipation of what was to come, and then, “More fuel.”

The roar of Hinata’s fire was _deafening_. It blazed around the three of them, engulfing both Tobio and the whole house itself in a fiery tornado, snapping and cracking at the cool night air, keeping the dark and the cold at bay. Strangely, the heat within felt nothing like it had on the outside—it didn’t burn, only sat pleasantly warm on his skin, like the mild summer breezes gone by.

Seeing Hinata’s magic work with such _intensity_ was an awe-inspiring thing. He stared, wonder-struck, as the house began to spit steam from cracks in its exterior, and the framework trembled beneath their hands. The rickety building gave a long, mournful wail, and before his very eyes it began to _lift_ , raising itself on shuddering legs, sputtering as it went.

“It’s…it’s standing,” Tobio said, laughing breathily.

Beside him, Hinata’s eyes were screwed shut in concentration. Tobio could feel the sheer magical power throbbing from the demon in waves, washing over him, as the house raised itself higher still, until it stood tall and proud and a little shaky, on it’s long, thin legs, clawed feet digging deep into the ground beneath it.

“You…” Tobio began, without knowing what it was he should say. Hinata had _raised_ an entire, haphazard _house_ , up off the ground, on legs that could stand and, perhaps, feet that could really _walk_.

This little demon that housed such a vital part of him, this ball of flame that could be doused away with the smallest of showers, the thinnest of blankets, could, with sufficient payment, move an entire _building_ from the earth.

Tobio knew Hinata had power. How could he not, when his very heart—the most important part of his being—had been taken by him, sucked out of him and stored away, until the day should come that the demon no longer requires it. He had taken it, like the task were nothing at all. And yet, he had never comprehended just how much that giant act really meant—not until now—for Hinata had never before made it feel like it were something _grand_.

Now, though, Tobio was beginning to see just how much this tiny little thing could do, with nothing but a bit of fuel for his fire.

“We did it!” Hinata yelled, elated, squeezing hard at Tobio’s fingers. “We really did it!”

“ _You_ ,” Tobio said, “you did it, stupid. I did—”

“Nuh-uh,” Hinata said. “Nope, I couldn’t have done it without a little help!”

Tobio didn’t have the heart to argue. Instead, he looked up at this monstrous thing—a house, living and breathing before them, brought to life by fire and a type of magic Tobio had never known before.

“ _Uwaaaah_ , this is _incredible!”_ Hinata cried. In his excitement, Hinata withdrew his hand from the wall, beating a fist in the air in triumph, and no sooner had he done so did the house crash hard into the ground, crumbling in places under the force of it’s own weight.

Tobio backpedaled from the avalanche. Hinata, who had hovered a foot off the ground in his enthusiasm, sank back to earth slowly, and surveyed the mess. Slowly, a little frown pinched itself between his brows.

“That,” he said, “could be a problem.”

“No _shit_.”

* * *

There was, seemingly, no easy fix to bringing the house to life. Without the chain between them, the house simply wouldn’t lift, crumbling petulantly to the ground at the smallest break of contact. They tried everything, but the house gave them no help at all.

“This is no use,” Hinata wailed, after yet another failed attempt. He slumped down against the wall, wilting like a dying flower against the forest floor, and Tobio followed suit, sliding down the side of the house as he went. “We can’t move it like that _forever_.”

Tobio shrugged a shoulder. The early morning sun was beginning to creep up in the sky, illuminating the darkness to the east, and with it the townspeople would rise, and the pair of them would have to rest, quiet, to avoid detection by passers by.

“It can wait until tonight,” Tobio said. “We should rest, for now.”

“ _Waah_ , Kageyama,” Hinata groaned, flopping to lie face-down on the ground, “I wanna do it now.”

“Tough,” Tobio said, kicking out at Hinata’s thigh. “It’s almost daylight, and I’m tired. Some of us need sleep.”

“You humans and your _sleep_ ,” Hinata muttered, and then, resigned, “fine. _Fine_.”

While Hinata hauled himself reluctantly from the ground, Tobio clambered to his feet once more, intent on grabbing his cloak to cover both himself and Hinata for the day while they rested, but as he pressed a palm to the side of the house for leverage, something sharp nicked at his skin, and immediately, a warm plume of liquid poured from him.

Tobio hissed, and yanked his hand away. A smear of blood stained the woodwork around the sharp end of a loose nail, jutting out from the side of the house, and on his palm, a small, ragged cut seeped more, pooling in his cupped hand.

“That was stupid.”

Tobio jumped, and Hinata’s upside-down face flipped upright in the air by his shoulders, his whole body rolling with him to lie, stomach down, on thin air.

“How many times have I _told_ you,” Tobio grumbled, “don’t _do_ that.”

Hinata grinned, and sunk his little feet back to the floor.

“Sorry,” he hummed, sounding not sorry at all. “But you should be more careful. Humans are fragile things, you know. You break so _easily_.”

There was something off, about the little demons tone as he spoke. He didn’t sound overly worried, to be saying such things, and instead his words came on something almost like a purr; silky, and satisfied. For the first time in a long while, Tobio felt acutely aware of what exactly Hinata was, and why the people of the land feared them as they passed.

Abruptly, Hinata shook his head, and with a teasing smile he tapped at the bloody patch of wall, opening his mouth as though to say something—a jibe, probably, or an insult—but then, he stopped, closed his mouth, and splayed his fingers out over the wood.

“ _Oh_.”

Hinata fell completely still, then pressed his palm solidly to the stain. For a long moment, he made no sound, no movement, only stood with his eyes softly closed, his fire a silent haze around him.

“That…” he said, quiet, breaking the strange peace, “that might just work.”

“What?” Tobio asked.

“Something—” the little demon flitted to the door, yanking it open and gesturing Tobio inside, “—something to tie you to the house! C’mon, in, I’ve got another idea.”

* * *

The inside of the house was bare. It creaked under foot when Tobio stepped inside, the panels they’d used for the floor screaming with every step he took. Hinata stopped him somewhere in the middle, in the heart of the house, and at the demons instruction, he pressed his bloody palm to the floor.

_A connection_ , he’d said; payment, much like the heart Hinata carried, tying Kageyama to the house itself, and to the demon.

He held still, there, until the stain spread, until the imprint of his whole hand lay red on the wood, and only then did he lift it away. Hinata stared at it, and then looked around the house, breathing the atmosphere within.

“That feels good,” he said. “Hold tight.”

And just like before, Hinata’s fire swallowed them up in a raging inferno, whipping the air about them and animating the house, sending it sputtering and steaming and rising up, from the ground.

For a moment, they stood still. In amongst their fiery canopy, the house _breathed_ , a steady rise and fall as it steamed, wheezing; a being, by magic, brought to life.

Then, with a violent wobble and a lurch that knocked Tobio off balance, one leg of the house lifted, and swung, and fell, clawing heavily at the ground. Tobio stared up at Hinata and his roaring fire, trying to balance on his hands and knees as the whole house quaked, engulfed in flame. The little demon only grinned, that wide, coal-dark grin, black eyes glinting in the frantic fire, and the building lurched once more.

One step, then another, and their little house was finally on the move.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took some trial and error, but after a few days of marginal disasters, Hinata had finally figured out a steady rhythm for the house. While the inside wasn’t as unwavering as a stationary building might be, it loped about as gracefully as a walking house could lope, no longer jerking so violently, and Tobio learned to stand, walk, and even sleep without disruption in their wonderful, wandering home.

It took some trial and error, but after a few days of marginal disasters, Hinata had finally figured out a steady rhythm for the house. While the inside wasn’t as unwavering as a stationary building might be, it loped about as gracefully as a walking house could lope, no longer jerking so violently, and Tobio learned to stand, walk, and even sleep without disruption in their wonderful, wandering home.

The interior, they kitted out with at first the barest of necessities—bedding to rest on, food, drink, and medicines—but as time went by, the pair of them gathered some home comforts to keep between their four walls. Tobio collected spare clothing, soaps and lotions with which to clean himself, pots and pans and plates, utensils with which he could cook and eat his now plentiful food-stores. And for Hinata, they amassed wood, as well as a selection of leftover or unusable foods for him to feast on to keep his fire burning.

Things were comfortable. Perhaps they’d be ideal, were it not for the fact that—as Tobio soon learned—there was no concealing a walking building. Autumn turned to winter, and winter bled into spring, and in their little house they travelled, earning new names and new rumours as they went.

Tobio tried not to mind all too much. He had Hinata, after all; a companion, just like he’d wanted, and now they had a roof over their heads to shelter them, and walls to house them. A place the pair of them could finally call  _home_.

But it was…difficult, still, to ignore the racket that surrounded them and the way society fled from him, paving a fright-driven path for his passing. Tobio was yet to become completely accustomed to the fear they struck in the people of the land, and now, it was no longer just Hinata’s presence that concerned them 

The stories that passed about them had changed, morphed, since the erection of the house. To most, Tobio was no longer just a boy, and Hinata a demon. Now, Hinata was a fiery beast, under the charge of a most powerful being—a wizard, they’d whisper behind their hands; a sorcerer, powerful enough to tame such a hellish creature. Strong enough to do the unthinkable: to raise a house from the very ground, on legs that could traverse the earth.

There was, at least, one more blessing to the house, and that was that these far-fetched fantasies never reached Hinata’s ears. Tobio rarely had to confront situations in which Hinata interrogated him about the people, or more accurately, the absence of them—the house prowled by hamlets, villages, and towns, and while the people pointed and stared and quivered in their terror, Hinata did not see them, and as such, he did not ask questions.

Sometimes, though, on the quiet evenings much like this one, with the house standing still, anchored to the ground in a far-out field and secluded even in the open plains on the outskirts of the west country, Hinata would rub absently at his chest, eyes hazy and distant, lost on his thoughts.

Tobio watched him from atop his bedding, piled cosily into a corner. The little demon sat squat beneath one window, his gaze trained somewhere far beyond the glass, past anything earthly that Tobio might hope to see. He was quiet, which in and of itself was relatively unusual, but what was stranger still was that the fire that burned around him had fallen low, so low it peeled away in places, exposing patches of pale skin beneath it.

Tobio had become used to sights like this. Often, now, Hinata’s fire would drip from him like hot wax, thick and syrupy, viscous as it poured from his body, and in its wake it would show more and more of what lay beneath—skin, hair, and teeth.

If Hinata had noticed the change in himself, he hadn’t mentioned it. He simply continued to stare, mind whirring, and then, after a little while, he spoke.

“It’s not so heavy, anymore.”

The words came dreamily soft, so quiet Tobio almost missed them, even in the comfortable silence that had settled in the house.

” _Hah_?“

"This,” Hinata said, tapping his chest, “your heart. I feel like it’s getting lighter every day.”

Tobio turned to stare at the little stone hearth upon which Hinata kept a fire alight, enough to warm the whole house. The flames in there crackled and jumped, spitting little flecks of burning wood and coal out onto the floor before them, and Tobio watched them simmer on the ground as he thought of an appropriate response to Hinata’s observation.

He didn’t much feel like explaining. He wasn’t even sure how to tell the demon what it was that had changed, for Tobio wasn’t all too sure himself. All he knew was that somehow, some way, in the past months of their journeying together, the burdens that had been weighing him down had lifted, and neither of them were left to carry the load. Where it had gone, he did not know, but what he  _did_ know was that here, in this house they built, quiet in this barren field with the stars winking high and clear overhead, Tobio felt…happy.

Real, honest happiness,  _contentedness_ ; a feeling he hadn’t known since he was a boy.

“Maybe you’re just getting used to it,” Tobio said gruffly, pulling his blankets up over his feet and setting down on his pillows.

“Nuh-uh,” Hinata said. He shifted to his knees and crawled lazily over the floor, clambering, uninvited, beneath the bedclothes. There was room aplenty between their walls, but some habits, Tobio had found, were a little hard to break, and he had grown incredibly accustomed to the little demons heat so close beside him. Hinata scrunched up his little nose in thought, and then added, “it’s definitely different. Feels  _weird_.”

Tobio raised a brow. He waited patiently for Hinata to finish his wriggling, and only when he had stilled, tucked deep into Tobio’s side with his flame oozing the softest warmth beneath the blankets, did he speak again.

“Bad weird?” He asked. Hinata hummed softly, slinging a leg over Tobio’s thighs as he thought.

“No,” he said, after a time. “It’s…nice. I think I like it.”

“I think,” Tobio said, “you’re imagining things.”

“Nope,” Hinata said, popping his lips loudly, grinning. And then, to both Tobio’s surprise and his own, the little demons jaws stretched as wide as they could go, and he yawned. Tobio raised a brow at him.

“Tired?” He asked. Hinata rubbed his fists into his eyes, shaking his head.

“Demons don’t  _get_  tired.”

“You sound awfully sleepy to me,” Tobio hummed. He crooked an arm beneath his head, and tucked the blankets high up over the demon’s shoulders. Hinata poked at him, but the touch was soft, half-hearted, lost in the gentle weight of him as he settled his head on Tobio’s chest and closed his eyes to rest.

“Just a few minutes,” Hinata said sleepily, yawning once more, and burrowing his nose deep into Tobio’s shirt. “‘m just comfy.”  

“Right. Sure.” Tobio drew the bedding tighter around them both, then flicked the little demon softly between the eyes, biting his cheek when Hinata whined, and wrinkled his face around the touch. “Wake me in the morning, if you’re up.”

Hinata gave a noncommittal hum, and then, just like a tired human would, fell quiet and still, lost to the world in sleep.

* * *

The following morning, Tobio awoke to a milky fog pressing against the windows. Even inside the house, the morning felt crisp and cool, the thin spring air luxuriously refreshing.

Hinata remained sleeping soundly at his side. It was an effort, freeing himself from the tangle of pleasantly warm limbs, and once Tobio had escaped he had to fight to keep quiet while he dressed, and took stock of what items they’d need replenished.

Tobio had hoped to get away before Hinata awoke. He’d never before had the chance to sneak away, nor the particular inclination, but Hinata was always incredibly persistent about leaving the house and if this could save him one more argument, Tobio would gladly take the opportunity.

Except, the moment he slipped into his boots and reached for his cloak, Hinata rustled, and sat up beneath the sheets, blinking bleary over at him.

“W’ you doing?” He asked groggily, then coughed, clearing the sleep from his throat. Tobio winced, drawing his cloak about himself.

“Market,” he said.

And suddenly, Hinata was wide awake. He scrambled out of the bed on hands and knees, scooting over the floor, dragging the sheets along behind him where they had caught, tangled about his feet.

“ _Waaaaah_ , can I—”

“No.”

Hinata stopped dead on all fours.

“But—”

“ _No_. Not this time.”

“You say that  _every_  time,” Hinata whined, looking for all the world as petulant as a child, beating his little fist on the floor. “You promised,  _Bakageyama_! You promised you’d take me into town with you next time!”

“ _Some_  time,” Tobio said, stiffly. “I said I’d take you some time, and some time isn’t right now.”

Hinata sunk from is hands to his chest, down onto the wood, and stretched to lie flat upon it, wailing his injustices as he went.

“Tobio~” he crooned petulantly, “Tobio, you  _promised_.”

“Enough,” Tobio said. “Enough of the whining. I’m going, and you—” he pointed a stern finger Hinata’s way, “you are staying right here. Do we need more wood?”

Hinata gave no reply. Instead, he continued to moan, bitter and loud. His flames bubbled off of him like lava, melting out over the floor, stretching towards every corner of the room. Tobio adjusted his cloak about his shoulders and rolled his eyes, emptying his bag of things he didn’t have to take, until all that was left was his canteen, the near-empty vial of healing potion, and the knife, which Tobio tucked into his pocket beneath his cloak. Just in case.

“You’re going to burn things,” he said. Hinata gave a longer, louder wail, spilling more molten flame into their little dwelling, filling it.

“‘wanna go,” he mumbled, voice warped by the floor boards.

“Tough.”

“‘ _Yamaaa_.”

Tobio shook his head. Hinata was prone to fits much like this one, temper tantrums that tipped the house effectively upside down, and Tobio had learned soon enough that waiting them out was just as effective as any attempts to appease him had proven to be.

“ _Hinataaa_ ,” he mimicked, tucking his bag strap over his shoulder. “Clean up your mess before I get back.”

Hinata groaned, then propped his chin on the floor, pouting up at Tobio where he stood in the doorway.

“How long will you be?” He asked. Tobio shrugged a shoulder.

“The town isn’t too far,” he said, “an hour, no more than two.”

Hinata huffed, and dropped his cheek to the wood, kicking his little feet half-heartedly as Tobio turned his back, stepping into the cool morning fog and shutting the door behind him.

The field in which they’d anchored the house was abandoned, desolate and isolated from the surrounding farmland by nothing but distance and empty, stretching air. Tobio had watched the little clusters of buildings disappear beyond the window as the house moved by, sure to take them far enough away that they wouldn’t pose any significant threat. The house provided shelter and a modicum of safety, but there was no use in being needlessly careless.

So long as people knew of and feared Hinata, the demon was in danger, and Tobio would do everything in his power to keep the little thing safe. Even if it meant isolating him in all his eagerness.

Tobio knew it was perhaps cruel of him, to cage a bird in such a way, but surely it was crueller still to let him suffer at the hands of humans so ignorant of him?

Many a time, Tobio had toyed with the idea of telling him the truth.  _This has gone on long enough_ , he’d think, the more Hinata chattered endlessly on, his bounding excitement and unfettered enthusiasm for the world in which he’d been grounded almost too much to bare. Even after so long—a year, tethered at Tobio’s side by a whimsical wish on a cool, cloudy night—Hinata had not yet grown tired, not of all their wandering, not of their little country corner of the world, and not of Tobio.

He didn’t think he had it in him to break the little demon’s keenness so thoroughly.

But that wasn’t all, and while Tobio was hesitant to admit it, there was no avoiding the issue. And the issue was, he liked Hinata’s company.

He liked Hinata in general.

So long as he had Hinata and the little house safe beside him, Tobio could ignore the rumours. He could ignore the towns and their people, the stories they told, and the witch hunts they planned in his stead. For the first time in years, Tobio was unburdened. Things were comfortable and easy, and the dynamic, right now, needed no change.

* * *

The town they’d stopped near was a monstrous, sprawling thing, stretching leagues over the land in all directions, clusters of houses separated by plains upon plains of lush green fields, some climbing for the heavens, others dotted with sheep and spritely new-born lambs, turned out to graze under the sun.

It took Tobio longer than anticipated to find the market in amongst the farmland, and longer still to work his way around it, for the moment he strayed far enough from the house, any sense of urgency—of eagerness to return, to make sure Hinata was still there, still tucked safely in their shelter—dissipated to nothing.

Instead, Tobio’s journey was methodical; he passed from stall to stall, slipping what he could into his pack with a cool sense of alertness.

Around and about him, people milled. While the market itself was already bustling, noisy with the shuffle of eager feet and the loud haggling of vendors, Tobio didn’t miss the voices creeping out from quiet corners.

“ _It’s true, what they’re saying—a house on real legs_.”

“ _Great, beastly feet, ripping up crops and coughing out steam up and down the valley._ ”

“ _Powerful thing, that wizard_.”

“ _Nasty, too—I heard he lures in pretty young women for his own **affairs** , and when he’s had his fill he feeds their hearts to that…that beast he keeps along with him_.”

Evidently, he and the demons passing had not gone unnoticed.

They would simply have to move, he reasoned; the only way to keep his heart safe was to keep the demon protected, whatever the cost—and if that cost was continuing on, despite the relative safety and seclusion of their current location, then so be it.

But first; food. The supply in the house was running low—while fruits and cheeses weren’t such an issue, Tobio’s meat stores had dwindled to near nothing. He gathered a few other items, first—vegetables, bread, milk and eggs—before approaching the edge of a little butcher’s stall, crowded with customers. 

Tobio could see why this particular station was so busy. The meat on the cart was delectable, rich, juicy cuts of lamb; of beef; pork; thin, gamey slices of rabbit; fat pheasant breasts; even long, tenderloins of giant roaming deer. Tobio eyed everything in turn, spoilt for choice, before deciding on his pick.

Near the edge of the table, overshadowed by far grander slabs of meat, was a round, string-wrapped joint of pinkish pork, salted to last and seasoned to taste. Tobio reached for it, mindful of the patrons picking their shares around him.

Though not mindful enough. As Tobio’s fingers closed around the meat, another set of fingers closed tight around his wrist, stilling him in his tracks. The butcher held him fast with cool, slick fingers, red and wet from chopping fresh cuts.

“Hey! The hell do you think you—”

Quicker than the butcher could blink, and than Tobio could process himself, he had whipped his knife from beneath his cloak, and pressed it to the pale, mottled skin of the butcher’s arm. The move was so precise, so effortless, so silent, that the people around them seemed not to notice, too preoccupied with the spoils laid before them.

“Let me go,” Tobio said, coolly. The butcher blinked, gaping. Tobio pressed the blade deeper, and the butcher gave a choked gasp as the skin beneath the metal split like ripe fruit, blood seeping in syrupy rivulets from the cut. “ _Now_.”

The butcher’s grip loosened, and Tobio, after a moment too long, removed the blade. Then, he picked up his prize, piling it into his bag with the rest of his takings, and slipped away from the crowd, wiping his blade clean on the inside of his cloak as he went.

* * *

Hinata had picked himself up by the time Tobio returned, shaking his head as his missing parts fell back into place. He caught the little demon lying on his stomach, kicking his heels and tracing little fiery patterns into the wood floor. They left scorch marks in their wake, but with a sweep of Hinata’s palm, they disappeared, leaving only clean, smoldering wood behind.

“D’you bring anything nice, huh?” He asked, hovering to his feet and bounding over. He looped around Tobio, tugging at the flap of his bag, wincing and sulking each time Tobio flicked at his greedy hands.

“Enough,” Tobio said, palming Hinata’s face far away from him. The demon’s whole body slid back, feet gliding over the floor, until he stood arms length away, frowning with a deep, full-lipped pout. “I’ll show you in a minute, let me through the  _door_  first.”

Hinata squawked and hummed while Tobio came in, closing the door behind him, and placed his bag atop a low, wooden table by the hearth. He unpacked mindlessly, barely registering the excitable noises filtering from the demon as his side. His mind was far too preoccupied, dazedly recalling the butcher, and what he had done to him.

Never before had Tobio been callously mean. He had made threats only when threats needed to be made—reciprocal ones, most often, for he preferred to stay far out of trouble when and where it could be helped. So it was…odd, and incredibly unsettling, to look back on what he had done with all the pieces of him back together again.

Why hadn’t he just run away? That is what Tobio had always done when faced with such a situation—cut his losses, and left. Alone, left to fend for himself at every turn, injury wasn’t worth the risk. There is no debate between fight or flight—where flight was a possibility, Tobio would flee.

But today, he had not. Today he had risked with cool detachment, unthinking and, perhaps more frightening still, uncaring of the consequences, and that thought rattled him, weighing heavy on his shoulders.

“Oi,” Hinata said sharply. Tobio blinked rapidly. The little demon was staring openly at him, rubbing a hand harshly over his chest. “Whatever you’re thinkin’ about, stop it.”

Tobio huffed out an apology, and grabbed up the chunk of thick, salted meat from his bag.

“Bank the fire,” he said, slapping the meat to the table top and slitting the string open, “I’m starving.”

* * *

The meat smelled as mouth-watering as Tobio had imagined. Even Hinata stared at it, eyes sparkling as the cuts simmered on the flame, juices sizzling where they dripped into the open fire.

It had been worth it to take, but Tobio still felt terribly uneasy over his methods.

“Is it done yet?” Hinata asked, passing his imploring gaze from the meat on the slab to Tobio and back again. “Can we eat? Huh?”

“What’s with this  _we_?” Tobio said. He scooped a thin cut up with his chopsticks and slurped it between his lips, all the while gazing at Hinata, who watched on hungrily, licking his lips. With his mouth still full, Tobio said, “demons don’t need good meat. You can have—” he picked up the discarded string that had wrapped the joint, and tossed it to the demons side, “—this.”

“ _Uwaaaah_ , Kageyama! No fair, I cooked it!”

“And I stole it.”

“Well, I—I…”

“You…?” Tobio said, smirking, while Hinata puffed up his cheeks, searching for a reply. Instead, Hinata let out a frustrated little growl, his fire growing momentarily more angry in his vexation.

“ _Pleeease_ , Tobio~” he begged, widening big, amber eyes Tobio’s way. For the briefest of moments, Tobio saw the deep, endless black of pupils, uniform little circles in the very centre, before they morphed once more into the usual messy mosaic of sappy oranges and honey golds. “You didn’t let come to the market with you, you’ve gotta be nice to me sometimes.”

“When am I ever anything  _but_  nice?”

Hinata pointed an accusatory finger.

“Right now! Right now you’re being the  _worst_ , Kageyama. The worst  _ever_.”

Tobio gathered more of the meat from the slab, piling cuts onto his plate until only three thin slices were left, and Hinata’s eyes had grown worryingly wide as more and more of the spoils were drawn away from him.

“Fine. There,” Tobio said, waving his chopsticks at the still-sizzling slices, “have those, and shut  _up_.”

Tobio sat quietly and watched Hinata eat. He was lively as ever, humming as he sucked the first slice between his teeth, but in this moment, with the late morning sunlight boring down on him through their little rounded window, Tobio could almost believe Hinata were nothing but a man, much like him, eating real, good food for the first time in his life, savouring the flavour like any other human would.

The daylight played tricks on his fire. It paled the flame, muting it until it was nothing but a hazy glow around a very clear, very  _distinct_  body. Hinata had large, round eyes, closed placidly while he chewed; a small upturned nose; and pale cheeks, dappled with tiny dark spots that Tobio might call freckles on anybody else. The little dotted constellations stretched down the sides of his neck, over narrow, muscular shoulders to the tops of arms—thin ones, but they held strength, Tobio could tell: more so than perhaps his own did.

Tobio didn’t dare cast his gaze lower, for all he had seen of the demon thus far was bare, and in far better clarity than he’d ever seen it before. Instead, he kept his eyes on Hinata’s face, watching his mouth while he chewed. Hinata had full, plump lips, shining with the juices from the meat, and a little pink tongue that flicked out to lick them.

Lips that, he knew, were soft and warm; not blazing like the fire that housed them, but muted, pleasant. Lips the little demon didn’t want him to touch, no matter how…how oddly  _inviting_  they might look, now.

Tobio blinked dazedly, and shook the sudden thoughts from his head, cheeks humiliatingly warm.

“Finish up,” he said thickly, shovelling too many slices into his own mouth. Hinata struggled to swallow his mouthful.

“What’s the hurry?”

Tobio cast his eyes to the window. The town lay quiet in the distance, barely even visible from where they stood, but Tobio knew to stay so close for too long was overstaying their welcome. He thought of the butcher, and of the whispers, the stories the townspeople told, and then he thought of Hinata, and the things they might do should they find him.

“Stop asking questions, and  _eat_. We need to get moving. Now.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Shit,” Tobio breathed, and then, louder, “shit. Hinata!”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “Move the house.”
> 
> Hinata blinked owlishly up at him, uncomprehending in his sleepiness.
> 
> “Huh? Kageyama, it’s the middle of the night—”
> 
> “Move us. Now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up *wink wonk* in the moving house, and...not in the sexy way.

They continued their journey west past one town, then another, before settling on the outskirts of a smoky mining village, where their house sat dormant for three whole days before the ambush.

Tobio grew accustomed to the sounds the little village made. Day and night it clanked and clattered, restlessly loud, a constant thrum of clicking hooves, of rusty iron wheels on narrow, soot-lined tracks, of heavy, man-powered machinery and voices, chattering from dusk until dawn.

Even with the ever present racket, Tobio knew the moment he awoke, foggy grey darkness looming beyond the glass, that something within the mantra was ominously different.

It was difficult, at first, to pinpoint just what it was that was out of the ordinary, for in his sleep-addled state, the sounds blurred together so thoroughly it was difficult to separate the lull of voices from the steady drone of steam and grating metal. But, as clarity filtered in—alarmingly quickly, like the sudden break of a looming wave—Tobio picked out the change.

Whispers. Quiet murmurs, rustles beyond the walls like a steady breathing wind. Tobio sat up abruptly, blankets falling about his waist, and beside him, Hinata toppled from his chest to the floor, and blinked himself blearily awake.

“What—”

“ _Shhh.”_

“Kage—”

“ _Quiet_ , Hinata,” Tobio hissed sharply. The harsh alertness in his tone must have registered with the demon, for he said nothing more, only watched on with wide, curious eyes as Tobio slipped his legs—silent, all too aware of every swish of the blankets, every creak of the wood—from beneath the bed clothes and searched his bag for his knife.

Outside, the whispering grew louder, though the words themselves remained indistinct. One thing, though, was clear; whatever it is that was being said, was being muttered by several voices in unison. A rhythmic chant, rolling from many practiced tongues.

Tobio darted to the window, and peered beyond the glass.

Surrounding the house were numerous silhouettes, dressed in dark robes that hung heavy from their frames, cloaking them from head to toe until they were nothing but shadows, melting into the darkness around them. Some carried weapons—blades, or else indistinct poles of metal or wood—while others carried buckets, bottles, and canteens, and the remaining few carried nothing at all, only stood spread around with their hands clasped as though in prayer before their chests.

“Shit,” Tobio breathed, and then, louder, “ _shit_. Hinata!”

“What?”

“Move the house.”

Hinata blinked owlishly up at him, uncomprehending in his sleepiness.

“Huh? Kageyama, it’s the middle of the night—”

“ _Move_  us. Now!”

The little demon scrambled to his feet, and the house around them rumbled as it stretched to life, lifting it’s hulking form from the dewy grass. The figures outside staggered several alarmed steps back as the house spewed steam and moaned, rising with Hinata’s magic.

“It’s  _hard_ ,” he said, frowning, and the house gave a few shaking, uneven lurches. “Why is it—it’s so hard to  _move_?”

The robed figures stirred restlessly. Those with weapons danced on their feet, at the very edges of scalding steam clouds, and those without chanted louder, as though the rise in volume might add power to whatever spell they were casting.

“They’re trying to tie us down,” Tobio muttered. He turned to the demon, who stood by the fire in the hearth, his own flames billowing about him. “Hinata, more power. We need to go,  _now_.”

“I’m trying!”

“Try  _harder_!”

“I—it’s not—it won’t  _move_ , Kageyama!”

The house gave a dreadful jerk, and Tobio slammed bodily into the wall beside him. It’s legs trembled as Hinata fought to keep it standing, to get it moving, but whatever magic they were weaving about the place was  _strong_ , so much so the little demon was struggling to fight it. Hinata was powerful, Tobio knew, but against the collective prowess of the numerous magicians outside, he might not be match enough.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Tobio said quickly. “Just…just get us  _out_  of here.”

“Kage— _Tobio_ ,” Hinata said, and for the first time, there was something like fear in his voice, frantic and alarmed. “It—I don’t know what’s happening.”

Tobio darted his eyes about the house. Dust fell in places, shuddering out of the trembling wood and raining to the ground around them, and though Hinata’s flames leaped and roared and the house jerked and juddered, they did not move. Only stood, quaking in the spell the wizards had cast.

Then, his gaze fell on the floor, right in the heart of the house, where the wood was stained red with the blood he had spilled onto it. The final piece connecting himself with both the house and the demon: payment, to strengthen Hinata’s hold over the building.

“There,” Tobio said, pointing at it. “Hinata, do it there.”

Hinata did not move. Instead, his eyes roved wide and  _panicked_ , watched the house around them disobey his will, no matter how hard he tried. Tobio yelled his name again, and again, but the demon didn’t respond, and the heaving of the house grew more and more violent.

“Hin—Hinata! Oi, idiot! Are you listening?”

The house gave another vicious sway, this one throwing Tobio from the wall to the floor where he landed hard, enough to momentarily knock the wind out of him. Gasping for breath, he clambered to his knees and, struggling for purchase, crawled over the quaking floor to the demons side, tilting and toppling as he went.

He clambered close to where Hinata stood, until the heat of the flame bathed him. The sound was  _monstrous_  up close, the raw power pressing, and barely under Hinata’s control.

With a tremendous effort, Tobio lunged, picking himself up from the shuddering ground and tackling Hinata about the waist, slamming them both to the floor where the blood stain lay.

“Wha—”

“ _Here_ ,” Tobio said. The dazed demon made no move to fight as Tobio braced himself over his back and grabbed at his wrists, slapping both his palms down to the deep red wood. The house groaned ominously beneath them.

Tobio planted both knees either side of Hinata’s hips, and slipped his palms from Hinata’s wrists to the backs of his hands, close enough to thread his fingers between Hinata’s own, to press the tips of them to the dried blood on the floor. Hinata twisted his head, and for the briefest of moments, they were face to face, so close the tips of their noses touched. Hinata gazed at him, lips parted and eyes wide, trembling in his panic.

“Now,” Tobio said. Hinata swallowed. “ _Move us_.”

For a moment, Tobio thought the demon wouldn’t comply, for he only stared, unmoving. But then his gaze steadied, and hardened, and Tobio watched on as a hardy resolve set in, and his burning amber eyes fell to an endless, impenetrable black.

“Right,” Hinata said. “Hold on tight.”

With a rumbling growl and an explosive roar, Hinata’s fire blazed, and the house, breathing anew, stood tall, high above the figures outside it with their weapons and their water and their magic, and  _charged_  on, scrambling across the land like a wild, untamable beast.

Hinata carried them far from the village. They fled for what felt like  _hours_ , each and every step taking them further and further from the danger of the magicians, and only when Tobio could hold himself up no longer did he raise his voice, speaking hoarsely into the deafening thunder of flame.  

“I think that’s—that’s enough.”

The house gave a sudden, staggering jolt, and fell still. Tobio jerked with it, losing the strength in his legs as he did, and fell atop the demon’s back, head sagging to the floor over his shoulder in relief.

For a long while, he didn’t move. Only lay, heavy against the warmth of Hinata’s fire, their fingers still laced together, panting to catch his breath as the adrenaline filtered slowly out of him.

Elbows shaking, he pushed himself up, off to one side where he sat and braced his back to the wall of the house.

It had happened  _again_.

After every precaution he had taken—building the house, keeping them moving, hiding Hinata away to keep him  _safe_ , they had still come for him. For  _them_. The rumours fuelled a fire so strong, Tobio wasn’t sure how he was supposed to fight it.

They couldn’t be safe, not here. Not in this land where everybody knew of them, where their tales alone carried so much weight and spread so much fear. So long as stories were told, they were in danger.

There were lands far away where they could travel, Tobio knew; some places he had only heard of, and some places he had seen, a long time ago. Places to which he’d sworn he’d never return. The problem, though, was that Tobio had no idea just how far the rumours had spread.

Were they such fearful things in the frigid ice plains far to the south? In the Marshes back east, from where they had started their journey? Would the West Islands over the water be a safe haven, or would danger wait for them there, too?

Or would the Wastelands to the north be their only refuge? There, regardless of the tales that preceded them, they would be feared far less than the real horrors that resided in the dry, barren landscape.

Tobio hung his head and let out a long, slow breath. On the floor, Hinata stirred, then climbed unsteadily to his feet. Though the house had fallen still, the little demon trembled as he stood, knees knocking beneath his weight—and  _oh_ , he looked  _heavy_. Heavier than Tobio had ever seen him.

“What—” he said thickly, swallowing, “what was that?”

“No—”

“Don’t,” Hinata said sharply, so fierce and so sudden it was almost alarming, “stop saying that. It—it wasn’t  _nothing_.”

Tobio lowered his eyes to the floor. Hinata stood taller even as he shook, the heat of him looming ever stronger in the little room.

“My magic wouldn’t work,” he said, “the house wouldn’t  _move_ , and—your heart, it—it won’t  _stop_.”

Tobio looked up, then, to find Hinata clutching at his chest, and beneath the tight, frightened curl of his knuckles, Tobio could see the little blue orb housed inside the fire beating, wild and frantic.

He pressed a hand to his own chest, and felt the cold, still emptiness within. Every other part of him—from his clammy skin to his slowing, panicked breaths, the sweat on his brow and the trembling in the very tips of his fingers—exposed the fear thrumming through him, but his heart, pounding as sharply as it was, wasn’t his to feel.

Hinata took a step forward, and thumped his fist hard to his chest.

“Make it stop,” he said, voice wavering. “It’s—I don’t—I don’t  _like_ it, like this.”

Tobio blinked dazedly up at him. Never before had he seen Hinata so…unstable. His shoulders rose and fell as though he were gasping, dragging in air, and the flames around him fluttered with every shift, fanned by the air billowing through him. His limbs shook, looking almost too brittle to hold him, and his eyes—they bulged, bigger than Tobio had ever imagined they could be, and in the very centres of them the mottled amber gave way to a pinprick of black; a pupil, constricted in his panic.

“You’re scared,” Tobio said, slowly. He frowned, and Hinata shook his head, slowly at first, and then erratic.

“I don’t—what does that  _mean?_ ”

“Dumbass,” Tobio said, climbing gingerly to his feet. Hinata stumbled, and for a moment Tobio paused, afraid of the spitting, jumping fire around him, for Hinata seemed not fully in control of it. “It means you didn’t like what happened to you. It’s normal—”

“No, it’s  _not_ ,” Hinata said. “I’m—it’s not  _normal_ ,  _Bakageyama_ , I’m a demon. Demons don’t—we don’t get  _scared_. We’re not,” he waved his hands around, in search of the right words, “we’re not supposed to  _feel_  things. Not the kind of stuff you humans do.”  

Tobio took a cautious step forward, and Hinata stumbled one back.

“We’re not supposed to feel heavy, like this.” He thumped at his chest again, so hard the sound echoed about the house. Something deep inside Tobio twinged. “We’re not supposed to be  _scared_ , or  _sad_ , or  _happy_ —but I—I feel those things  _all the time_ , Kageyama. I’m—I’m—”

Tobio took another step forward. This time, Hinata didn’t move, only swayed precariously as he fought to find words that would not come, to articulate feelings he shouldn’t have, and Tobio wasn’t sure how to help him.

“It’s okay,” he tried, but Hinata let out a roar of frustration before he could say anything more, clutching at his flaming hair and curling over, in on himself, encasing the heart and the feelings it brought in a fiery shell, as though trying to hold them back. Tobio moved from foot to foot, staring at Hinata in his turmoil.

Day by day, it seemed, Hinata had grown more and more man-like, shedding fire and exposing the body beneath the flames, but he had never imagined Hinata could change quite so much—he’d never imagined a demon could become so _human_. And while Tobio had no idea how to comfort a raging, panicked demon, he knew exactly what it was that people did.

And so, Tobio did the most human thing he could think of. He stepped forward, and engulfed Hinata’s curled, trembling frame in his arms, squeezing the heat of him tight to his chest.

“What—” Hinata sputtered, choked and rasping, “what are you doing?”

Tobio cleared his throat, and fought back the heat in his cheeks, though he knew Hinata couldn’t see him, hunched over in his grip as he was. Still, he felt strange, holding the shuddering, distraught demon so close.

“Hugging you,” he said.  

“…why?”

“Because that’s what people do,” Tobio said, “when somebody is—is scared. You comfort them.”

For a while, Hinata remained still, tense. Momentarily, Tobio loosened his grip, afraid he’d gone too far, but then, slowly, Hinata fell slack against him, melting gingerly into his touch until he stood flush to Tobio’s chest, his flames furling lazily around them both. He raised his head, and turned his face into Tobio’s shoulder, so close Tobio could feel the press of his little upturned nose, and the soft, cushioned weight of lips against his collar.

Hinata’s fingers curled into Tobio’s shirt, rumpling the fabric and pulling it taut against his hips. He let out a sigh, long and shaky, and his lashes fluttered, tickling the skin of Tobio’s neck. The air around them burned comfortably warm, and for the first time since waking, Tobio finally allowed himself to fully relax, too.

They were okay.  _Hinata_  was okay. They’d made it far from danger once again, shaken but unscathed, and perhaps the peace might last only days, but for now, they were safe.

And Tobio had never felt such relief in his life.

For what felt like an eternity, they only stood, wrapped together in the heat of Hinata’s flame, silent as the dust settled around them. And then, after a time, Hinata spoke, barely a whisper.

“This is nice.”

Tobio’s chest clenched tight. Tobio had all but forgotten what it felt like to have such close contact with another living being; he’d been alone for so long, and even with Hinata, their touches had never felt so…intimate, before. They had been necessary, at first, for warmth and protection, and then they had become simply a habit, but this—this was different.

Different, and…yes,  _definitely_  nice. The little demon felt  _good_  against him, warm and soft, close enough that Tobio could feel the body of him beneath the fire. Lean, narrow shoulders, thin hips, the solid tightness of firm muscle down the line of his back—all these things Tobio could feel, whether in the curve of his arm or beneath the splay of his fingers, or else nestled against him, high on his thighs and low on his hips. Hinata hummed contentedly, and Tobio’s stomach jumped.

Hinata twitched, lifted his head away and turned his face up, so close his eyes blurred into one glowing, amber blob in the centre of his face. A little frown tucked itself between his eyes.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asked, and for a moment, Tobio was baffled by the question. Then his gaze roved down, over the demon’s face, past the jut of his chin and the long, curved length of his neck, all the way to his chest, where the little blue orb pulsed, low and frantic.

Tobio shook his head.

“No,” he said, swallowing. Hinata cocked his head.

“It’s…fast, again,” he said, “like before. Are you scared?”

Again, Tobio shook his head.

“It’s a good fast,” he said, and when Hinata’s head tipped further to the side, he added, “this fast means I’m…I’m happy.”

“You’re happy?”

Tobio pulled his arms from around the demon, and took a step back. Hinata was too close, and Tobio’s face too warm—surely, he thought, his cheeks must show it, burning red even in the orange glow of Hinata’s fire. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, honestly. “I’m happy.”

Hinata stared, wide-eyed and open mouthed, and then, he grinned, the brightest grin Tobio had ever  _seen_.

 _Yes_ , he thought, as the little demon wandered away—still a little shaky on his feet, but calmer nonetheless—to tend to the fire in the hearth, with the calm comfort of safety blanketing the pair of them and a swell of fondness ever-growing in his chest; very happy indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobio grew to love it, to crave it, this new little touch of theirs. He grew to know intimately every little piece of Hinata that rested against him, from the press of his chest to his narrow hips, thin arms and digging fingers, little legs that tangled up in Tobio’s when they lay down to sleep, to his tiny upturned nose, poking into the side of Tobio’s neck, and even his lips, soft and plump and oh-so warm, resting open and gentle at his collar.
> 
> A warmth settled within him as every little piece of Hinata surfaced from his memories, until Tobio felt drunk with it; light-headed, airy, hot to his very fingertips.
> 
> So, unnaturally hot, in fact, that it pulled him abruptly from the depths of his own mind—and the sight that greeted him made his heart still in his chest.
> 
> Fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops it's been a while and also I haven't written in...literally months!!! So I can only apologise

Tobio took to town three weeks later, with their supplies dwindled to nothing but a slab of ripe cheese, and red fruit, squashed and mushy with age. Wood for the demon had run out entirely, a fact it complained about loudly, and often; Tobio had grown tired of it’s whining and left it to tend to the house, with whatever energy reserves it had left.

He couldn’t bring it with him, not when it was so  _weak_ , and carrying a cargo so valuable.

Since the last incident, Tobio had had the demon relocate them to south, where the climate cooled and the people gathered in larger numbers. The towns here were few and far between, but each and every one was bustling, a constant stream of activity. They had set up camp on the outskirts of a newly settled industrial town, where the people worked and lived in droves.

Supplies here were plentiful, and with the sheer volume of occupants crowding every corner of every street, Tobio had thought his presence wouldn’t attract so much attention.

The house, though, was a problem.

Hiding a moving house was a virtual impossibility. Word passed faster than their refuge could travel, and saw them into town after town like the most unwelcome entourage. And once stationary, the house was difficult to hide—this far south, even something as small as a copse of trees was hard to come by, and the land was far flatter, barren and chill.

Fortunately, they had gotten lucky, and happened upon the remnants of a village, its people swallowed up by the ever-growing industry in an ever-growing town, its houses left abandoned and bare, worn to dereliction by weather and age. Here, their ramshackle haven almost fit in.

And this was where they would stay, for as long as they could, until the rumours spread far and wide, the pattern of their travels lost to the whispers.

The town was a bustling mess upon Tobio’s arrival. Towns this close to the Southern border are goldmines for trade, wood and coal carted from rich forests and working mines further North, and in amongst the traders bartering their goods, the streets are lined with magicfolk—they sell brewed, bottled potions, spells sealed in parcels or envelopes, or else they offer services out of their stations; palmistry and fortune telling, advertised with gaudy tents and alluring signs.

Tobio picked his way through the throng unnoticed. He slipped items into his bag with practiced ease, his face a blank canvas. Calm he might have looked, to an outsider; bored, uninterested, perhaps lost in some distant daydream—but Tobio’s mind was far from empty.

As he walked, gathering what supplies he and the demon needed, he thought; thought of the weeks passed, since their encounter in the mining village, and of the demon, locked away in his moving prison.

It was an odd thing, living so close to the little creature. Tending to its needs, humouring its will—keeping it at his side in the night, feeding it not only wood for fuel, but things it  _desired_ ; food from Tobio’s own supply, meat and eggs and bread, meals the demon chewed with a toothy smile, barely hidden within its fire. It was an odd thing to sleep with it beside him, beneath the bedclothes, even when they rested so close to the fire in the hearth.

In times like this, with the fire demon trapped far away, Tobio often wondered why.

And yet, with a bag full of goods and an arm full of sticks, garnered from the edges of a blacksmith's shop, trekking his way out of the town and back towards their lonely little village, Tobio wondered less and less, until the house was once again in view, and Tobio didn’t have to wonder at all.

This close to the house, this close to Hinata, Tobio knew his reasons, and the fact was this; Tobio  _liked_  Hinata’s company. He liked it an awful lot more than he should.

He liked the warmth of him, the weight of him by his side in the dead of night, when the world slept beyond their walls, and he liked the noise he made—a constant, low level of chatter, day in and day out, always something new, be it questions or facts or simple observations—and most of all he liked the comfort he gave. He liked more than anything the happiness the little demon made him feel. 

If Hinata had noticed his growing fondness, he hadn’t questioned it—in fact, he had taken it very much in stride, always staying close, easing into Tobio’s casual touches and reciprocating in kind. Hugging was a newfound novelty, and something Hinata seemed to enjoy. At every opportunity, his little arms would wind their way around Tobio’s tall frame, curled about his waist, and his head would tuck itself beneath Tobio’s chin, until the flames of his hair licked and tickled his jaw.

“It’s fast,” he’d say, by way of excuse. Or else, “it’s cold,” or even, on the long, quiet nights, when boredom lulled them to rest, “it’s just...nice, is all.”

And very nice it was. Tobio grew to love it, to  _crave_  it, this new little touch of theirs. He grew to know intimately every little piece of Hinata that rested against him, from the press of his chest to his narrow hips, thin arms and digging fingers, little legs that tangled up in Tobio’s when they lay down to sleep, to his tiny upturned nose, poking into the side of Tobio’s neck, and even his lips, soft and plump and oh-so warm, resting open and gentle at his collar.

A warmth settled within him as every little piece of Hinata surfaced from his memories, until Tobio felt drunk with it; light-headed, airy, hot to his very fingertips.

So, unnaturally hot, in fact, that it pulled him abruptly from the depths of his own mind—and the sight that greeted him made his heart still in his chest.

 _Fire_.

Great, red jets of it, blasting through cracks in the windows of their home. It roared, bleeding heat like nothing Tobio had ever felt before, and the smoke it spewed spread into the sky like a beacon, calling attention to their inconspicuous little hide-out.

And from within came  _screaming_ : a violent, blood-curdling yell. Whatever it was—for it sounded too primally fearful to be anything even remotely  _human—_ gave a sobbing shriek, and the fire burst out anew, shattering the wood from the window panes and stretching out into the open air.

Tobio pulled his bag over his head and dropped it to the ground, yanking from it nothing but his scarf, which he wrapped tight over his mouth, and his knife, which he unsheathed, and clenched in his fist. It would do no good against fire, he knew; but there was nothing else he could  _do_. No other way for him to protect their home than this.

The air before the front door undulated in his vision, weaving in the heat billowing from the crooked little building, and though Tobio fought to pass it, it fended him off, battling him back from the raging fire.

“Hinata!” Tobio called, but the crackle of the flame was  _loud_ , so loud his words melted to nothing in the scalding air. Adjusting his scarf, Tobio steeled himself with one last, long breath, and then, resolved, he ran; past the searing heat and through the door, into whatever waited beyond.

* * *

 

Tobio squinted into the smoke-filled room.

The house, in itself, was fine. The fire touched nothing, left no mark on the floor nor ceiling or walls; the only damage was that to the windows, where the heat had been so intense it had shattered the little glass panes. Soot spiralled overhead in the force of the blistering flame, and the air whipped about, snatching and tearing at Tobio’s clothes.

And in the centre of the carnage stood Hinata, and before him, a stranger, pinned to the wall by fire, and by fear.

And fearful, Tobio thought, he absolutely should be, for in the eye of the storm, the fire demon was  _terrifying_. Gone was the softness, the gentle smiles and wide, bright eyes—Hinata’s face was hard, and cold; empty. Tobio would have preferred him to look angry, or upset, or even  _scared_ : anything besides this, this awful, unfeeling nothingness.

“Oi…” Tobio said, uneasy. If Hinata heard him, he gave no indication. His gaze was fixed on the man before him with eyes like coals, black and bottomless.

The man by the wall flicked his eyes from Hinata for only a moment, and, upon seeing Tobio, he withered, sinking towards the floor of their house and spilling huge, pitiful tears. He looked a mess, snot and saliva leaking out of him, sweat coating his brow, his face ugly, twisted and contorted as he sobbed, immobilised by Hinata’s flames.

“P—please!” he screamed, “please—help me—he’s—he’ll kill me!”

Hinata did not flinch, and he did not turn, but as the man cried his fire swelled anew, blazing a heat so strong it knocked Tobio back a pace, until his spine collided heavily with the wall behind him. The temperature was enough to choke him, and the smoke watered his eyes, blurring the picture before him.

“Hinata! Oi, Hinata—Dumbass, what—what are you  _doing_?”

This time, Hinata noticed him. But there was no abrupt change, no sudden halt in his wrath; he only turned, a long, slow twist of his head on his shoulders, while the fire around him continued to roar.

Tobio had only once or twice felt unsettled by the demon, but never before, looking into Hinata’s face, had he felt such raw  _fear_. Hinata stared over at him, eyes dark as night, and when he opened his mouth to speak, there were no teeth behind his lips, no tongue to form words—only a mass of glowing, cindering embers, crackling and spitting like kindling.

“He broke in,” Hinata said simply, and Tobio flinched. The  _noise_  that came from him—it boomed around the room, deep, and echoing, so thunderingly loud that Tobio felt it, rather than heard it.

“That’s...Hinata, stop this—you’re—”

The stranger clawed at the ground, dragging himself out from beneath Hinata’s fire, but the demon gave him no room to move. With a tumultuous  _whoosh_  his fire swung low, and swept his captive back into the wall, slamming him in place.

Tobio stared on, wide-eyed and  _petrified_.

“Hinata—stop—you’re going to  _kill him_ —”

“Help me, please—please,  _God_ , help me!”

“Hinata!”

The demon—for right now, Tobio could not deny that that was all he was—turned to stared at him once more, and though fear trembled his knees and clenched his throat, Tobio held himself firm, and stared right back.

“Hinata,  _enough_.”

Hinata blinked at him, and cocked his head.

“Stop this,  _now_.”

For a moment—a long, terrifying moment—Tobio thought Hinata might not listen. The demon stared at him some more, stared and stared and stared, and then, after an eternity, his fire receded, and the room, finally, fell still.

The man by the wall gave a hacking, relieved sob, and fell to his hands and knees.

“Thank—thank you, sir! You—you saved—”

“Get out,” Tobio said, sharply. “Leave. Before I change my mind.”

With a strangled gasp, the man scrambled for the door, knees knocking beneath him as, with one more frightened glance at Tobio and the demon, he fled. Tobio allowed himself a steadying breath, then whirled around to face Hinata.

“What...what the hell was that—”

“Is it true?”

The house felt eerily still, without Hinata’s fire to fill it, and silent. The flames simply licked around the demon’s frame, now, like always, and without the heat of them, Tobio felt frighteningly chill.

“I don’t understand,” Tobio said slowly. Hinata blinked over at him, the deep black of his eyes replaced suddenly by their usual soft, glowing amber, and when he looked up at Tobio, his face was wrinkled with confusion.

“That man, he said—he said we’re not—he said  _you’re_  not welcome here. You’re not welcome here, because—because of  _me_.”

Tobio’s blood thundered in his ears. Hinata wasn’t...he was never supposed to  _know_. He was never supposed to find out about the people, how they thought and how they felt, not when Tobio had worked so hard to keep it from him.  

“That’s not true,” Tobio lied. “They think I’m—they think  _I’m_  the problem. They think I’m a—a wizard, they think I move the house, they think..it’s just...it’s humans being  _stupid_ , Hinata. That’s all it is.”

“They’re scared of  _you_?”

Tobio nodded.  

“Because of me,” Hinata said again. His words were firm, but his voice wavered as he spoke. “Because I’m a demon. Because I’m—” Slowly, tremulously, Hinata stared down at his hands. He twisted them over, eyed his palms, followed the fire flickering at his fingertips, and then he clenched them tight into fists that shook before him.

“Because I’m  _dangerous_.”

“Hinata, you’re  _not_ —”

“Your boots,” Hinata said. The words were so off topic it made Kageyama start, for a moment, and the argument died in his throat. “I didn’t  _find_  them.”

“I don’t care—”

“I  _killed_  for them. I killed a man, Kageyama, because that’s what demons  _do_ , right? We kill people. We’re not—not safe.”

Tobio’s breath caught in his throat. Memories flooded him, battering him from all sides:

_He should have been back by now, should he not?_

_Last he wrote, he was only four towns to the west._

_I thought he’d be back this evening._

And a smell, eerie and familiar, of warm leather and charred lace and meat, sizzling over the fire. He had known—known way back then, that something wasn’t  _right_ , but...but to think of what the demon had done…

Tobio shook his head.

“Stop—”

“And I’d have killed him, too,” Hinata said, gesturing towards the still open doorway. “He came in here—he came into our home.  _My_  home. If you hadn’t—if it weren’t for you—I’d have  _killed_  him.”

“ _Stop_.”

“I’d have done it and I wouldn’t even  _care_ , because I’m  _evil_ ; that’s what he said."

Tobio knew it was a lie. He knew that Hinata would care, that Hinata  _did_  care; he had seen it with his own two eyes, in his curled, panicked form, when he felt fear for the very first time, and in the warmth of him, huddled against Tobio's frame, and he would tell him so, if Hinata would just let him  _speak_.  

"I’m not safe. Nobody wants me around. And as long as I’m with you,” Hinata said slowly, “nobody wants you around, either.”

“Will you just  _listen_ —”

“If I weren’t here, would they let you stay? You wouldn’t have to move all the time. You could find a home, right?”

 _No_.  _No_ , thought Tobio; no, he had a home. He had a house he loved, warmth and shelter and a space to call his own, and he had  _company_  he loved; a fiery little demon with his heart in the palm of its hand.

“Hinata, I’m...I’m happy. I don’t  _need_  people. I have a home, and I have  _you_ , and that’s—that’s enough. That’s more than enough.”

Hinata shook his head, and drew his hand up to his chest, where Tobio’s heart fluttered frantic in his fire.

“It’s not,” he said softly. “Whenever we—whenever we move on, it’s heavy. Because it hurts, right? It hurts, bouncing around—moving from place to place because nobody—nobody  _wants_  you.”

“ _No_ —”

“I can feel it,” Hinata said. “I can feel it every time. I don’t—if I’m gone, if you can—if you can  _stay_ , it won’t hurt anymore, will it?”

“ _No_ , it—I—”

Hinata curled his fingers over the heart, clenched his fist so hard he trembled, full bodied shuddering, and then he looked up, looked Tobio straight in the eye, and nodded.

“I’ll fix it,” he said.

Tobio shook his head, thoroughly uncomprehending. Hinata came closer, faster than Tobio could blink, and in his confusion he took a stumbling step back, all the while rocking his head loosely from side to side.

“Fix what? I don’t understand.”

“Hold still.”

“Hinata—what are you—”

And then the little demon was on him, insistent. His fingers clutched the back of Tobio’s head and held him still with a strength Tobio had never felt from him before, and with one final, shuddering breath, Hinata sealed his mouth tight over Tobio’s own. For a moment, Tobio froze—Hinata was—he was—

Hinata was  _kissing_  him.

He was kissing him, but there was no happiness in the touch. There was no comfort, and no longing—only trembling; every inch of the demon shook, and Tobio’s chest felt  _cold_ , icy, with a feeling so familiar it ached.  _Grief_.

And then, along with the cold, came something else, something  _real_. Heat, fiery and pulsing, pressing at his waiting lips. Hinata’s tongue probed at him, shuddering, and Tobio opened his mouth to the touch, but the little demon didn’t kiss him like Tobio expected. Instead, a beating ball of something hot, something almost  _solid_  passed over his tongue, and Tobio reflexively swallowed.

And  _oh_. Oh, he felt it, then—the familiar echo of his own heart, settling back into the cavern of his chest.

Tobio yanked himself out of Hinata’s touch and clapped a hand over his mouth. He coughed, and retched, but the newfound weight did not shift.

What  _did_  shift was the house around him. It gave an ominous creak, and it  _wailed_ , shuddering where it stood on legs that could no longer hold its weight. Tobio threw himself for the door, and no sooner had he tumbled to the rock-strewn ground did the house behind him crumble.

Tobio pushed himself up on his elbows, and stared at the smouldering rubble.

“No,” he whispered. And then, with a mournful croak, “ _no_ , no—Hinata!”

He cast a frantic gaze around, but the demon was nowhere to be seen. The village stood silent, still and thoroughly abandoned around him.

Tobio sat in a laden, stunned silence. Hinata was  _gone_. The air around him blew frigidly cold, eating into every part of him, and the house—their  _home—_ was nothing but debris, collapsed in on itself, a wreck of what it once was.

And Tobio was alone once more, with no demon, no home, and nothing but a beating heart weighing him down, heavier than it had ever felt before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have faith, my dears; it's not over yet

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: someone-stole-my-shoes   
> Twitter: @someone_stolemy
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and for any comments/kudos/bookmarks for this fic - you're angels and I love you <3


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